Golden Heart
by Girl Without Umbrella
Summary: Sometimes people think they're just born, without reason and without meaning. However, when a child's parents are killed, and she is taken in by a group of strangers called the BPRD, she discovers her fate to stop a Golden Army from dooming humanity.


**Prologue**

* * *

_**June 3rd, 1991**_

_We said goodnight  
And not goodbye._

Her mother's lullaby still swam around in her head. However, it did not help with the child's sleeping habits. She had rolled out of her bed and quietly snuck down to the stables. Daddy didn't come back inside after dinner. She was worried. Taking Monty with her, she walked outside to the barn.

A bruised purple color lingered in the sky, giving the hints of red off like a fine wine. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The sounds of crickets mixed in with the lingering rain and occasional hoot of a barn owl on the quiet New York horse farm. The wind picked up, casting aside the clouds to reveal a hint of the silvery moon lingering in the sky. A coyote howeld in the distance and then quieted at another roll of thunder. The Jones Stables was now silent from the after effects of a small storm.

The small farm was settled in New Salem, New York. Not many knew about it. It wasn't even advertised in the yellow pages. Only a few horses, about eight or so were stabled there. Soon to be nine. Franklin Jones, the owner was out in the stable, kneeling beside the pregnant mare, rubbing her over swolen gut speaking softly to her. Sweat stained her lovely black coat, making it a glossy sheen in the lamp-light. She jerked up from the pain of contractions.  
"Whoa, easy m'girl," Franklin spoke softly,"it'll be all right."

Beads of sweat began to form on his brow. His thick brown hair, usually shoulder length, now pulled back into a ponytail. His sleeves on his shirt were rolled up now. Another push from the mare.  
"Push girl, push."

"Daddy?" The young voice broke his concentration. Two tiny feet walked into the barn barefoot, and those feet belonged to the little girl. She wore a small lavender night dress and a spotted stuffed pony tucked under her arm.  
"Graceland Natasha, what are you doing out of bed," His voice sounded harsher than he wanted to. The little girl stopped in her tracks.  
"I... I wanted to make sure Rosy was okay... Is the baby okay?" Her little voice shook slightly. Frank's brow softened as he beckoned the four-year-old over to him. She hastily ran over and sat on his knee as he wrapped a large arm around her tiny body.

"The baby is fine. Here, feel." He took her tiny hand which was dwarfed by his own and placed it on the mare's sweating belly. The girl retracted her hand hastily.  
"It kicked!" She exclaimed. Frank laughed softly at her reaction, kissing the top of her head.

"That's just because he's trying to find his way out." The mare jerked again and sighed.  
"Look, Gracie. Here he is..." Frank guided his daughter to the backside of the mare where a new foal now sat, the fluids and placenta staining the dirty.

"A towel, quickly," Frank said. Just as instructed, Gracie ran to get her father a rather large blanket. The man quickly began to rub the foal down to dry him. The crisp autumn air set a chill down his own spine.  
"What should we name him, Gracie-girl?" Frank asked softly, taking her little hand once more and placed it on the foals own moist muzzle.

Gracie hesitated, thinking as she stroked the small foal's nose. The mare shifted and stood up, greeting the girl-child and foal. Frank pulled his daughter back just as the foal stumbled to gain balance from his long awkward legs. The foal had a smokey-grey coat.  
"He looks like a prince."  
"A prince? How about Valiant."  
The child's big brown eyes went wide with delight.  
"Prince Valiant!"

He kissed her forhead. A delight squeal escaped from the child's mouth as she hugged her father. He swept her up in his arms as she laughed with delight.  
"Come on now, let's get you into bed."

Back inside the house, Franklin Jones prepared a cup of hot coco for his little girl and sat her down in her bed.  
"I want a story," She said quietly after sipping the chocolate. Franklin felt a frown tugging at his mouth.  
"You should be sleeping already. If your mother knew you were up-"  
"-But she's out like a light, daddy."

A sigh,"Fine. Once upon a time... The end."

A protesting scoff made him smile,"No fair! There was no middle! Make it a long long middle!"

"Fine fine, sit back and drink your hot chocolate," Frank said in his defense,"Let's see. Where to begin..."

_Once upon a time, there was a princess. The fairest princess of them all. She had long golden hair and big beautiful brown eyes. This princess was no ordinary princess. She never stayed locked up in towers or braided her hair waiting for a knight to come rescue her. Instead she was out slaying dragons and saving peasants from monsters.  
Her name was Princess Graceland.  
Of course, every princess needed a large steed to carry her across long distances without ever tiring. She was given the finest stallion of them all. His fur like the very silver lining in the clouds and looking that of a regal birth. His name was Valiant. Both Princess and horse went on many marvelous adventures. The princess never wore a single dress on her adventures, but the strongest armor found in the entire world. She was loved for her bravery and kindness.  
One day, Princess Graceland and Silver came across a very handsome elf prince who needed her help. He was trapped by a large monster, so hideous and so frightening that even Graceland felt twinges of fear in her heart.  
She would not let this stop her though. She rode into the battle, fighting on her trusty steed along side the prince. In the end, the battle was one. Princess Graceland saw this Prince and deep in her heart she felt love for him.  
She soon married him and became Queen of her own people, still fighting and defending them from harm and evil. She lived with her horse and Elven Prince and of course, her life went on happily ever after._

By the time Frank was finished, Grace was already deep asleep. He smiled, kissing her forehead and turned off her light,

"Good night, Gracie."

-  
_**September 5th, 1997**_

Pain.

Hurt.

It hurt.

She hurt.

Mommy. Daddy.

Something, a horse. Dead.

Graceland's mind was muddled when she opened her eyes. She was wet all over, not from sweat. Something heavy lay across her legs. When she tried to move, pain shot through her legs all over her body. She wailed with the pain. Her childish instinct instantly told her to call out for her mother.  
"Mommy!" She cried. Tears burst out of her from the fear. She opened her eyes, cheeks becoming stained with tears.  
On her a body barely recognizable as a horse. She screamed so loud everything else went silent. Her wails of fear and pain did not stop. She looked about wildly, screaming at everything she saw. Blood smears splatter everywhere. The few horses they had were slaughtered and lying about. She saw the half-eaten corpses fighting back the urge to vomit.

The smell of death hung over everything. Her wails slowed as she went into a state of shock, breathing shortly. Over and over she muttered 'mommy' and 'daddy' to herself, as if saying their names any more would make them come to her calls. This could be just a terrible nightmare. The child screamed again when something moved the corpse off of her legs. The pressure and the blood flow came back with more pain.

"Red, careful! Her legs are broken!"

"Jesus, she's covered in _blood_!"

"Get blankets and a stretcher, she needs immediate attention."

"Where are her parents?"

"They're dead.. They must have missed her, or didn't think she'd be worth anything."

Someone was crouched over her.  
"She's completely catatonic. Where's that stretcher!"

It was then that gentle arms wrapped around her. Her body was layed out on a firm board. Her eyes lolled around useslessy,"Mommy... Daddy..," she murmured and tried to reach out to a strange figure beside her, pushing the stretcher along. Her hand touched someone's sleeve. It wasn't her father's or her mother's. It was foreign and cold to her but she held onto it.

"She won't let go of me," what ever it was protested. She could no longer focus. The pain being too much, everything was hard to remember.  
Grace held tighter when the arm tried to move away. Tears welled up in her eyes.  
_Don't leave me too... Help me..._

"Then stay with her. Look, she's in shock. Don't make it worse."

When her eyes, blurry with tears. A hand touched her face, wiping away tears. She opens them. The hand is red but it is gentle.  
"Looks like the Big Red Monkey is a gentle giant after all."

Her little body started to shake. A warm thing, soft and comforting was layed over her body.  
"I need to splint her legs. Scoot over, Red."

That hand that rubbed her cheek now removed her own from the sleeve. She barely squeezed it. Then there was pain. She twisted, groaning at the now dull ache.  
"Clean breaks luckily, some bones shattered. Just crushed under all that weight."

"She gonna be okay, Abe?"  
"I'm administering her some sedative now..."

Her eyes fluttered. Something pricked her arm like a bee sting. Everything was blurring up.  
"M... Mommy..." She muttered again. Slowly, her vision faded and she was lulled into an empty, hollow sleep.

In the infirmary, the girl found in the small New Salem stable was cleaned of the blood that covered her small body. The x-rays of her legs indicated fractures and shatters and many breaks. The next two months would be painful for the small child.

Hours after the bone-setting and casting, the girl lay in a bed in the infirmary unit. Her heart monitor beeped and the breathing machine sighed softly.  
Two figures stood by the bedside the bed.  
"Abraham. See what you can get from her memories..." The two were noticably different. One an old man leaning on a cane and the other a very tall aquatic fish man.

Abe only nodded, taking his hand and placing it on the child's forhead, then touching the top of Professor Broom's palm.

The whole scene whirled in with dizzying after effects. A little girl was riding around a dirt-ground arena on a large silver-dappled stallion. In the center was a man with a long dressage-ish whip.  
"Pick up your hands, Grace," He instructed.

The stallion threw his head down and she lost her balance, falling forward on his neck.  
"Don't let him take advantage of you like that. Sit up."

The memory continued well into a lesson of dressage. The little girl dismounted and removed her helmet, recieving a kiss from her father,"Hose Val down then take him for a hand-graze. The girl nodded, shaking out her dirty blonde hair and using the hose to clean the stallion off who kept nudging her, causing her to stumble.  
"Valiant," she said in a very strong voice,"Do you want your bath or not?"

Immediately the stallion stood still with a doeful expression in his large brown eyes. She laughed softly and continued to hose him down. Then she hooked him to a halter and lead-line and took him for walk-about around the large trail leading into the woods. However, the girl did not need the lead line for the stallion. She ditched it next to a large boulder along with the halter as the pair walked further into the woods. It was obvious she had done this many times before.

"You shouldn't have dropped your head down like that. Do you want me to fall off and hurt myself?" The girl asked accusingly to the silver stallion. He snorted softly and gently nudged her. She laughed and pushed his head away.  
"I forgive you... For now!" The girl then started out in a sprint after pushing the stallion's shoulder. He took off after her, both child and horse running like they could beat the wind.

She stopped suddenly. The horse stood beside her, some how feeling her tension. Something was wrong.  
"Valiant... Let's go back." The horse stood fast, as if to say No.

"Val, c'mon... We're out too far. We should go back now."  
Valiant, the silver-dappled thoroughbred knelt down regally and she slipped onto his back. What her father and mother never understood was that she never needed a helmet, a saddle or bridle when riding Valiant. When he was born she felt the connection to him. She could understand what he wanted. Like the other animals on the farm. She understood them, and they understood her.

They took off at a dead gallop back towards the barn. When they entered the clearing, she could hear the screaming of horses and the mixture of her mother and father. It was as if her heart had dropped down into her stomach like a brick. She jumped off and out of the opening she saw a horse bolt out. Seconds later a monster of huge proportions jumped on top of it. Grace did not hold back her scream of terror.

"Valiant RUN! Get OUT of here!" She shrieked at the equine. He stood still,"GO!" She screamed slapping him hard on the rear. The stallion bolted off back into the forest as fast as he could.

It was then the girl ran inside the barn. It was like a butcher's back room to his shop. Blood and animal parts were strewn about. She saw with large, horrified eyes the bodies of her parents massacred. She screamed again, this time as something large and heavy knocked her back violently into the wall. A sickening crunch and then the weight of a horse fell over her legs. She blacked out right then.

Abe took his hand away from the sleeping child's head as if she burned his very flesh. When he looked to Broom, the pained expression he held matched the anguish inside the child's mind. He did not speak for a long time.  
"Have they retrieved her horse?"  
"No, they believed he is still somewhere near the stable area."

"Have a team find him. He is the only thing she has now... The poor child..."  
"They were beserker trolls, Professor. They had gone mad..."

"Yes yes... When she wakes we will have to break it to her gently. I don't want her to be damaged any more in her fragile state."

Abraham nodded, leaving Broom with the sleeping child. He stepped forward and placed his hand on her cheek,"Father, watch over this child... Show her your everloving care and guidance... She needs it more than ever."

-  
_**April 17th, 1994**_

"Gracie get your hands out of that batter."

Those stern words came from the mouth only one would call their mother. Gracie pulled her hand back after licking it clean of the chocolate batter in the bowl on their kitchen counter. She giggled softly as her mother turned around. She was beautiful even if she wore no make up. Her hair was a shiny dirty blonde much like Gracie's own, but her eyes were a clear grey-blue like a sky after a rain storm. Fierce and beautiful at the same time.  
"I thought I told you to wait until afterwards."

The girl-child giggled innocently which in return gained a smile from her mother.  
"Come on now, we'll let it bake while we practice the piano."

Soon the brownie mixture was slowly baking in the oven and Natasha Jones lead her daughter to the old piano in their family room. She sat down with her little daughter on her lap.  
"Remember the chords?"

Gracie smiled and placed her fingers in the correct keys and played once.  
"Good. Now, show me the C minor..." She smiled as her daughter played each set perfectly.  
"Excellent. Alright, mommy has something new for you. Sit next to me."

Grace slid down next to her mother, resting her head against her side, taking in her familiar scent of lavender and rain-drops.  
"My own mother wrote this for me when I was little. Her Lullaby."  
Gracie watched fixed on her mothers fingers as they slid over the keys easily and the notes flowed out as smoothly as a mirror surface. Her mothers voice started in after measure, clear and beautiful like a bell,

"_Goodnight, sleep tight  
No more tears  
In the morning I'll be here  
And when we say goodnight,  
Dry your eyes  
Because we said goodnight,  
And not goodbye  
We said goodnight  
And not goodbye_."

**October 8th, 1997**

Into the first month, Grace was nothing more than a lump in her wheel chair. She would stare out endlessly for hours, and never respond even when someone tried to speak to her. Her eyes were either dark and baggy from lack of sleep or swollen and red from crying. She saw monsters everytime she looked up. One bright red the other blue. Sometimes a man with a scary face and another which she thought so old that if she touched his face it would crumble to dust.

"Her legs are healing as normal, but her mental status has not improved." Abe watched her through the glass in the green house that had been built for her use. She sat there like an old person, instead of a lively young ten year old child.

Professor Bruttenholm watched the girl with dismay, "We need someone to get her to open up-I fear that if she continues in this state she will be nothing more than a vegetable."

"She needs time, Professor... After all it happened a little more than a month ago."

Bruttenholm nodded gravely, "I fear for the worst in her... Perhaps my son will be willing to donate one of his feline friends to the cause."

The door to the greenhouse opened and shut with a jingle. Gracie didn't look up.

"Hey, kiddo. I brought you something you might like."

The big red man with a stone hand, red cans on his forehead and a tail knelt beside her chair. She didn't look at him. In his arms was a black kitten with big blue eyes. It mewled softly and kneaded Hellboy's arm.

"She's a special one. And I want you to have her," Hellboy said, placing the little kitten in her lap. The warmth felt surprising. The little sting of the kitten's tiny claws pricked her thighs. The purring then came as the kitten settled herself comfortably in the girl's lap. The girl deftly raised her hand , stroking the sleek black fur. A look of relief washed over the big red man.

"Yeah, that's right. She's a good kitty. Treat her nicely, okay?"

It was then that Grace stared him in the face. He was no longer frightening. His yellow eyes were gentle and his expression made her relax a little more in the chair.

"Okay." Her voice was broken almost like the soft rustle of old leaves in autumn.

Hellboy was almost taken aback by her response. Her brown eyes were dark, but he could see the light glowing in them, like a small flame threatening to go out.

He reached forward and scritched behind the kitten's ear with his normal hand. After a few arguments with his father, he finally took a look at the little girl. She looked like she was slowly dying on the inside, wilting like a flower without sun. One of his cats had a new litter and the smallest one had been the black one. He loved cats so much, and he wanted to help this girl out of her shell. Why not donate to the cause?

He heard sobbing and then saw her crying softly. Little sobs brought tears rolling down her face.

"Hey now, how many gallons of water can one person cry?" He tried to make a joke, and she cried a little harder. The big red demon sighed softly. He didn't think telling her anything would make her stop.

"What will you name her?" He suddenly asked. She rubbed the tears from swollen eyes. Then looked down at the sleeping black kitten. She sniffled pitifully and stroked the sleek black fur.

"Hey, it's alright. It'll come to you." There was an alarm going off and Hellboy looked up.

"Sorry kiddo. Gotta go fight some monsters now."

She barely looked up as the red demon left her alone with the kitten in the green house.

January 14th, 1998

The doctor's office was cold, white and clammy. The fluorescent light above increased the depressed and dingy look around. All doctors offices looked like this. Grace sat on the examining table, her legs -heavily plastered- were propped up for comfort. There was nothing comfortable about them now. They itched and were sweaty all the time. Not too mention the monotonous dull ache they had.

The man sitting in the corner with his legs crossed watched her silently. This man, as she had learned, was Professor Bruttenholm.

"Dr. Elmen is just doing a routine check-up and cast replacement..." Bruttenholm had told her on the drive there. Routine check ups meant hurt for her. She wanted to go back home- There was no home left- back to the BPRD. To her room. To lie under her covers and whisper to her kitten which Red had given her. The doctor entered, a lively tall red-headed woman with sweet green eyes and a kind smile. She spoke with an Irish accent.

"Hello Professor Bruttenholm," She greeted and shook his hand, "Good to see you again. Hello Graceland. How are your legs today?"

"They hurt," she said bluntly with a shrug. She looked up at the doctor with empty eyes. Dr. Elmen bent over the table to prod her legs gently by the casts.

"Well the pain is natural. She is going through physical therapy, yes?" Dr. Elmen looked over her shoulder at the aging Professor.

"Oh yes, we make sure she has the finest therapists..." Bruttenholm assured with a smile. Grace wish she could smile again. She some how forgot.

During the check up the doctor removed her casts which hurt, but was like a relief. Her skin had become very smooth, almost like a dolphin's rubbery hide from the protection of the white plaster prison. Her legs, from mid-thigh down to her calf were bruised an ugly purple-green.

"Do you see the green around the edges?" The doctor asked, indicating to her legs. Grace nodded.

"It means they are healing, albeit slowly. You're a brave little girl, Grace."

Dr. Elmen gave her another smile. Grace felt terrible with all these smiles. How could she give one back if she had forgotten how to even work those muscles? When the x-rays came, the had to dose Grace with a little pain killer so they could move her with ease onto the platform.

The silence on the drive back was deafening, save for the droning of the car motor. Grace gazed blankly out the window as the rain came down in a gentle sprinkle. Perhaps the weather felt as bad as she did. New casts and better medication should have made her happy but it didn't bring a single sparkle to her eyes.

"Your legs are improving at a remarkable rate," The old raspy voice brought Grace's attention. Dark eyes shifted over to the old man.

"When we can take off the casts for good, I'm sure Abe with help you around in the pool areas. Water therapy is good for your legs."

Grace just looked at him like she always did. She knew he didn't expect a reaction. But the words flew out of her mouth before she could catch them.

"Thank you."

This time the surprise was barely seen in his old face, and he quickly hid it with smile that wrinkled his face deeply.

"It is good to hear your voice again." He commented. She nodded once. For the rest of the short car ride her voice hid itself deep within her throat once more.

"So you still haven't figured out a name for her, huh?" Hellboy was sitting on the floor of Grace's room, the kitten batting at his red tail. The child shook her head no. He seemed to be the only one she opened up to enough for him to get a few words out of her. Today she seemed a little lighter after the doctor's visit. Father had even told him that she said 'Thank you'. In a way, Hellboy felt proud of the little kid.

"No." She murmured. Grace was sitting on her bed in a long blue night-dress. Her hair was brushed and braided out of her face. Everything in her room had been decorated like her old one. In fact, every precious thing the Bureau could get out of her home was here. Her mother's piano, her father's belt buckle, the black-and-gold statuette of and Egyptian cat sat on her bedside table next to a portrait of the trio. Grace was about three, her arms outstretched to the sun between her mother and father. They all had big happy smiles on their faces.

"Hey, what's the name of that?" Hellboy pointed his stone hand to the statue. Grace reached over and gingerly plucked it from it's spot.

"This was mommy's. She said her name was Bast. A Cat goddess in Egypt." Hellboy was making note of her progress. Today, three sentences.

"You should name your kitten Bast then."

Grace looked over at him, then to the kitten who had rolled onto her back, her limbs wrapped around Hellboy's tail and nibbling the end of it. Something weird happened with Grace's face. Her lips at the corners contorted into an unfamiliar way. Most people would have called it a smile.


End file.
